Devin James Fry’s “Purple Glue” Is Out Now
You can fathom, or at least conjecture, exactly what Devin James Fry’s favorite color is, simply by familiarizing himself with his music. His latest single, which dropped this very day, is entitled “Purple Glue”. The color adorns many of the song’s lyrics and, quite naturally, those of the hook. Almost all of the promotional photos for this release—including the artwork for the single—have a distinctly amethyst tint, if not outright images of this particular chromatic shade.
As a look at these pictures, and a listen to the single (which also includes “No Hope” on this particular release) reveals, Fry is far from the typical artist. He’s primarily a producer, although he’s an instrumentalist as well, credited with making it happen on the guitar, synths, drum machine and koto, among other instruments. But he’s certainly got a knack for vocals, putting together some tripped out lyrics, and really, really, taking it there with his creations.
The man confesses to being “held together by purple glue/hoping it holds one person but I feel like two/sometimes three or four”. And he does so over a slow, seemingly drug-induced (or maybe it’s just ripe for such ventures), corpulent drum track with much emphasis on the snare. The high hats are racing, he’s put together a vibrating bass line, and the sheer conviction of his delivery helps to turn this into a modern version of TechN9ne’s “T9X”.
Things really get hairy when dude grabs the electric guitar and gets to wailing away at one hell of a solo that’s way more out there than the psychedelic synths that also lace the tune. It makes for a memorable listening experience, in which one’s not sure just what, exactly, is going to happen next.
There are marked similarities between “Purple” and “No Hope”. Again, the tempo is way slowed down. The snare is almost as fat, and one of the most distinctive elements of the track. This time, however, the bass is big and conforms to a relatively simple chord. But as the title of the oeuvre suggests, on this outing the theme is poignant despair.
“Now that I have no hope ask me if I’m hopeless/no, but I used to be” Fry phrases on the hook over several tracks, one of which includes the vocals of Nat Tate. Meantime, Otem Rellik issues a similar sentiment via spoken word with lofty vocabulary words—seemingly sealing the deal.